I didn’t worry, I didn’t flinch, I didn’t think about whether to make eye contact or not, I didn’t change anything.
I just walked.

This will sound daft to those who don’t experience street harassment, and probably pretty damned surprising to those who do.

I’ve never done that before. Not since I was a kid. Builders are usually the worst. At least, they’re percieved to be the worst.
After a ten months of living in Sheffield, where not one single builder has ever cat-called, whistled, stood in my way, leered or anything else, where I’ve only had three unwanted interactions with any men at all, I’ve started to not worry.